Necessary Evil of Nathan Miller (15 page)

He swore he'd help me with everything,
so I reluctantly agreed. It felt strange going out in public, after
so long in captivity, in the dark and in hospital. At least I
didn't have to do it alone.

So I'd feel like a right invalid, he
got me a wheelchair. Despite all my piano practise, my fingers
still felt clumsy as I pushed the damn thing. I resolved to play
for an extra hour when I got home. The new song – the one that
wouldn't leave my head. I focussed so completely on the song that I
almost crashed my wheelchair into someone's shopping trolley. She
glared at me as I mumbled an apology, but her expression quickly
changed to shock and she hurried away.

She wasn't the only one to wear that
expression. I felt like everyone was staring at me – had they all
seen my photo in the paper?

Every shop we went to, it seemed they
had. Everyone looked at me for a second longer than they normally
would, giving me pained, sympathetic smiles as they nodded to me as
if they knew me.

"Do you need anything?" I asked Nathan,
wondering. He didn't seem to be the type of bloke who'd volunteer
to go shopping for no reason.

"Something to sleep in," he said
quickly. He made a big show of buying himself boxer shorts and
t-shirts in Myer, asking my opinion of an expensive satin pair and
some cheap cotton ones.

I looked at them both and wondered how
he'd look in the deep blue satin, six-pack and all, but I tried to
control my face. "Weren't you going to buy pyjamas?" I asked
innocently.

To hide his panic, he picked the first
pair he saw – a pink pair parked haphazardly on the rack marked
50% off already reduced items
.

I couldn't help it. I laughed so loud I
couldn't stop.

"Can I help you?" the shop assistant
asked as she hurried over.

"He needs some new pyjamas. Probably
not in pink," I said, pointing.

Nathan's cheeks flushed to match the
pyjamas as he put them back.

"We don't have much left after Father's
Day, but the best ones are over here…" she said, leading the way
over to a rack that looked a bit more his style. "What do you
normally wear? Long sleeve, short, buttons, long pants,
shorts…"

I heard Nathan mumble something about
how he normally just slept in his shorts or nothing at all. I'd
seen him mostly in his shorts and a t-shirt in hospital, so I
already knew he'd dressed up for me. I hadn't realised he'd dressed
for me.

It was the shop assistant's turn to
blush as she managed to say, "I'll just be over at the counter if
you need any help. Just let me know, okay?" She beat a hasty
retreat.

Nathan quickly picked something with
long pants and long sleeves, before pushing me up to the counter
with his proposed purchases.

I'd never seen a shop assistant process
a payment so fast – and say so little while doing it, too.

"Time for food shopping?" Nathan asked,
breaking into my thoughts.

I agreed, so we headed for Woolworths.
As we wove through the crowded shopping centre, dodging trolleys
and kamikaze pram-pushers, a thought struck me. He'd wrapped
himself in the sheets when he'd shared my bed in hospital. Maybe
the conservative sleepwear was part of his bid to be allowed to
sleep with me.

I led the way to the frozen food
section, where the pre-prepared food was kept. The less time spent
cooking, the more time I'd have for exercises and recovery. The
display of strawberry punnets broke my resolve, though – it had
been so long since I'd had fresh ones. I stuck some in the trolley,
on top of everything else, and kept my eyes on them as Nathan
pushed our soon-to-be purchases toward the till.

"Anything else you need?" I murmured,
looking at the newspaper rack by the register.

"Coffee," he replied.

"I have some already, look." I pointed
at the big jar of instant coffee hidden beneath a frozen pizza.

"No – I don't drink that stuff. I'll
get my own," he said vaguely, hurrying off to do so. I wondered
what sort of coffee he'd come back with. If he was really so fussy,
he must've wanted that expensive stuff that had to be brewed or
needed specialist equipment to make.

To my complete shock, he returned with
a jar of decaffeinated instant coffee. "What?" he asked, catching
sight of my expression. He tossed the jar into the trolley.

"Nothing," I replied, wincing as the
jar landed on one of my precious punnets. "Not on the
strawberries!"

He apologised and moved it, but it was
too late – the damage was done. He'd squashed part of one punnet.
Annoyed, I led the way to the register. I wanted to go home.

He reached for the newspaper before I
could, laying it carefully on the conveyor belt at the checkout.
Actually, he'd grabbed two, but he seemed happy to pay for them, so
I didn't argue.

As we waited for the girl at the
checkout to finish scanning our purchases, I caught Nathan glancing
from the newspapers to me, a bemused smile on his face.

It wasn't a bad photo of me – though it
was a terrible one of him. You couldn't even see his face. I
scanned the article, which didn't tell me anything I didn't know.
Apparently, I'd been found near death, on a beach early one morning
by a mystery man. A reward was offered for an exclusive interview
with the man, I read, as I turned to page seven for the rest of the
article, but Nathan hadn't seen it yet. I wondered if he'd take
them up on it, or if there were some confidentiality conditions
inherent in his job that said he couldn't give press interviews.
More importantly, looking at the offered reward, I wondered what
they'd offer for an interview with me. Perhaps I should check my
email and Facebook messages.

Nathan's expression turned dreamy and I
wondered what he was thinking about. From the way he looked at the
paper, I suspected it was me. I smothered a smile and decided to
cause a little trouble.

I had to call his name a couple of
times to get his attention before I asked, "Will you stay with me
tonight?"

"Sure," he replied promptly.

Thinking of the pyjamas, I waited until
we were in the car park with no one in earshot before I said what I
was thinking.

"I want you to sleep with me."

His eyes positively shone for a second,
before he realised I couldn't be serious about sex with him. But
for that second, he'd hoped…

Feeling perhaps a tiny bit penitent, I
explained that I wanted him to stay with me like he had in hospital
– or like this morning.

Instantly, he agreed.

As he lifted me into the car, I felt
for a moment that he lingered to savour the feel of me in his
arms.

The thought that coalesced in my mind
was that if I did choose to get naked with Nathan, he'd never hurt
me. For he knew I'd kill him if he did.

Maybe one day…but not yet.

"Should we pick up a pizza on the way
home?"

It took me a moment to understand what
he'd said, but once I had, I agreed.

He handed me his phone, as my brand-new
one was still in the box, and told me to order whatever I wanted
for both of us.

I had to search for the number, but I
found it and ordered for us. While Nathan focussed on driving, I
flipped idly through his phone. He had a text message he hadn't
read. I accidentally hit the touch screen in the wrong place and it
sent me to his list of messages. The unread one was about his
latest phone bill being ready to pay. I moved my fingers to send
the phone back to its home screen when the first line of another
message caught my eye.

"Maintain cover. Build trust." The
number had no name associated with it.

I glanced at Nathan, but he was busy
swearing at some Landcruiser that'd just cut him off.

I opened the message so I could read
the rest – there was a whole conversation preceding it. I scrolled
down to the first message in the chain.

It'd been sent from Nathan's phone –
presumably, by him. It dated back to 3
^rd
July, the day
before I was kidnapped. "Made contact. Will attempt to obtain
information."

The reply. "Stay with contact.
Establish trust. Cooperate. Use any means necessary. And
condoms."

Nathan's next message was dated
4
^th
July. The complete lack of punctuation emphasised
the urgency of the text. "Drugged saw kidnapping trapped in car
girl taken must break cover need backup now."

The last and most recent message was
the one I'd seen initially. I read the message in full, dread
sinking in my stomach. "Maintain cover. Build trust. Do anything
they ask until further notice. Will contact."

I poked blindly at the touch screen,
trying to exit out of Nathan's messages as if I'd never read them.
When I saw the home screen again, my nerveless hands dropped the
phone in my lap.

Someone had ordered him not to help me
– to let me be taken. I needed to get into ASIO and find out who.
There was no way in hell that was legal or procedure.

I closed my eyes and added one more
bastard to my list. A nameless bastard, for the moment, but not for
long, I vowed.

Part 46

In the morning, Nathan headed off home,
promising to return that night and take me out to dinner.

I'd fallen asleep far too early last
night, so I had an extra hour of piano practise to put in before
starting any other exercises. I'd finally managed to limber up my
fingers enough to work a bass line beneath the melody that wouldn't
leave me alone. One more run through and I'd write it down…

A heavy knocking jarred with my timing.
I stopped playing and stood, making my way to the front door.

As I approached, I heard a gruff voice
say, "Sit. Caesar, sit."

I smiled and threw the door open,
unlocking the screen door before I could even see him clearly.
"Good morning, Bruce. What can I do for you?"

Bruce looked hard at me, as if he
couldn't decide which weighty matter to bring up first. "It's good
to see you home, Caitlin. Wendy and I didn't believe anyone could
hate you enough to do something like this. The bastards should be
castrated and hung. They should bring back the death penalty for
people like them…"

I fought to keep the smile on my face
as I nodded my agreement. The bastards should be castrated, then
their corpses hung up like dead meat…

"So I've come to give you Caesar and
Cleo," he announced proudly, waving at the two dogs sitting at the
bottom of my front steps.

The two enormous Rottweilers wagged
their stumpy tails. I'd taken these two to training a couple of
times for Bruce, so I was on their short list of favourite
people.

"But I don't have any dog food, Bruce.
And you know Dad doesn't like dogs…" I began.

"While you're home alone, you can keep
them in your yard – I'll come over and feed them every day. They'll
help protect you." His fierce grin was hard to resist. "You won't
have to worry about a thing. And if you have any intruders…Caesar
and Cleo will take care of them for you. You know how much they
love you."

Holding carefully to the rail, I
proceeded down the steps to the two dogs. I held out my hand for
each of them to sniff before I patted them both gently. The dogs
did love me, but I wasn't sure I could control them if they
attacked someone. They didn't know Nathan.

"Bruce," I said carefully. "It's such a
lovely, kind offer, but one of my friends is coming to stay with me
at night, to keep me company. Caesar and Cleo don't know him. What
would I do if they attacked my friend?"

He scratched his head. "Ah. Should I
just leave you the block-splitter, then?"

I noticed the heavy axe he held by his
leg and smiled. "You know I can't lift that. You keep it. If I need
help, I know where to come."

He seemed agitated, but he knew better
than to push me. Bruce had known me since I was six. "All right,"
he said finally. "You know if you need any help, or anything at all
– just ring me or come over. If you get anyone so much as look at
you wrong, you run straight to my place and set the dogs on them.
I'll leave the gate unlocked."

I thanked both him and his two dogs,
then watched as all three crossed the road back to his house.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I locked
the door behind me. Even without Nathan, there was always someone
watching out for me. Even my neighbour's scary guard dogs.

Part 47

Tied – Dark – Chris – Water – Pills

I awakened and it was still dark. I
tried to rub my eyes, to see if they were really open, but my hands
just didn't move. I ached deep inside from what the bastard had
done to me.

I tried to stand up, but my feet were
forced too close together, my thigh muscles unable to move. I
twisted around, trying to see where I was, but there was nothing
visible in the darkness. Someone's breathing was the only
sound.

"Awake?" It came in a barely audible
whisper.

"Where's Chris?" I demanded. Which
Chris, I should have said. The bastard who could barely touch me or
the one who broke my fingers and…

Slightly louder this time. "Right
here."

His hand lightly touched my
shoulder.

My throat was dry as I whimpered, "I
need water." No need to defy him.

"I know." The cool rim of a cup pressed
to my lips. "I'll help you where I can. Here – something for the
pain." Pills, then the cup back. I didn’t question it, I just took
them. I realised I was a drug addict and I didn’t even know what
the drug was.

My tears chilled my cheeks. I couldn't
wipe them away. They flowed down my face, unchecked, a tribute to
my own weakness. They fell faster – Chris witnessed this, me losing
everything I'd ever had.

I began to sob uncontrollably. What did
it matter – Chris was no one! "Untie me and take me home!" I begged
him. "I can't stay here – let me go!"